Debaser
by bebopdebris
Summary: Funny how a moment can live well past its worth. Right? Maybe.


Slowly, with the determination of sending shivers throughout one's body by sheer touch, the entire essence of Mugen's manhood is taken in. Warm, slick; with the same earnest movement, he's released as his eyes roll into focus, and peer through slits down into his decorated lap. Matted hair, and gaudy pins bounce in near place to the rhythmic beats of a humming young woman. They lay atop a futon in a mediocre room, in an even cheaper brothel, by standards well exceeding Mugen's earnings.

Sprawled over his lap, she takes him in again, after a short pause on a whimpers time.

Mugen's eyes shut tightly with the tensing of his body to her touch, back rising in a wave down his spin; and he thinks jammed, scrambled thoughts to the deliriously sweeeet treat he's bought himself.

The sensation of her humming on him, vibrating a tune throughout his body. But more importantly, deep into the pit of his loins. She'd periodically move a finger from the hand holding him in place for her, down ever so slowly, just under the cup of his sac, and press into his flesh. The effect felt intense when she hummed her deepest. He'd first thought, for a split second, she meant to get a bit more familiar, and continue that fingers descent. For the amount of Ryō paid, a bargain that'd end up being in his favor. Despite his overall lack of interest in that sorts of play.

"You sure you don't want to go all the way tonight?" His thoughts are disrupted as she leaves him exposed, causing a chill to creep over his moistened areas. "I'm sure a-" She tentatively strokes him, wanton. "... Big guy like yourself has money stashed somewhere. I'll put in a good word, gett'chu a discounted price. Come on." Her eyes wreaked of a thousand times tried and true selling pitch. All a sell, however flattering. On the right night, this very well could have worked, but Mugen was in no mood for giving back.

Without entirely intending to, he chucked, with more of a sneer attached than he meant to in the process. He learned long ago never to outright laugh at a woman with your junk in her mouth. She raised her head, eyes widened with confusion as she stared at him up from his lap. Her hands frozen in play on his being. Clearly, she's not had such a reaction as his to her tried and true pitch.

To her chin he cupped his hand. Sliding back past her ear, and down through her hair, repeating the action as he whispered how beautiful she looked taking him into her mouth like she does. Telling, all the while still petting, her and bringing his other hand to do the same. An ease starts to settle over her face, and he mentally flatters his own ego. "You'll have to come back and give me the whole show. You promise?!" She pouts, as he reclines releasing one hand from her head to throw back behind his own. The other still at play in her hair, slowly pushing her head back down onto him. "So long as I've the money, baby, it'll be no problem." A large, knowing, grin taking him back into her mouth. Both of them dancing to the lies they've fed one another.

Mugen smirks as he cocks his head, catching sight of her tender travels up and down him. Snorting, his hand still left riding along with her head, twitches and grips her hair tighter. Shes taken all of him inside her mouth, and she knows he loves it. Releasing his hand to steady himself, planting to his sitting side, he notices a strand of her hairs fallen forward. Shes picked up speed, and suction. A level of new pleasure unleashes through his body, as they begin to gently rock to the motion of her gained speed. 'This is good, this is fucking great. This has got to be the best shit I've gotten in ages!' is almost all that fills Mugen's mind.

That hair of hers, whisked against his tan, muscular thigh. Bugging him more than aiding to the delight, he reaches forward, brushing it back behind her ear, and notices in the process a small, little trinket in her ear. He bites his lip, looking up to the ceiling so as to maintain his erection. But his focus feels diverted.

Taking him out of her mouth, she begins to jerk him off, lapping at his tip to moisten it every few motions. She stares up, moaning for his attention to be brought to her. Mugen supplies, staring at her ear, and putting together the little earring to be-

"Where do you want to cum, big guy? My face? Mouth?" She motions her jerking action off towards her agape mouth, saliva beading and breaking apart from tip to tongue, smitten eyes peering through half lids, and a sunflower. A small, orange-y yellow sunflower in her ear.

Mugen groans, jolting for as he wrapping his freed arm around her head, forcing his cock down her throat, and cums. Staring down at the sunflower in her ear, memories to the days earlier events flood his mind. And thoughts of earlier. Thoughts of Fuu. Earlier.

His eyes flicker shut, as a pain churns through his chest. Down and out with the last of him, he shoots deep into the throat of this young woman, hoping all thought are expelled too. Holding her steady in place, she doesn't protest, hes silently grateful as heavy breathing replaces a once violent rhythm they shared.

"Gentleman always warn a lady, you know!" She's playful, knowing the guys that stop in this area aren't anywhere near gentlemen. Gambling, brothels, and thieves seem more common than part of any underbelly of this societal make-up. "Damned if I'm one. Heres an extra bit for playin nice." Mugen drops some extra money as he fixes himself to leave. "Hey!" Touching his working hands, shes kneeled before his still sitting self, a little disheveled, but not as seemingly as him. "You seem as though you're in a rush to get out now. You one of those guys? How about one on the house. I know you just finished," Her rustled hair, shes places behind her ear, and Mugen can't help but stare at her entranced. "But give it a lil bit of some time, and I'm sure a big guy like you will be up in no time."

She winks at him, the effect feeling more appalling than he's able to understand why. Leaving on a, muddled, but relatively pleasant note seems to be deteriorating. So he stands, finishes fashioning, and collecting himself, to make leave. Beginning to protest, but cut short by a sordid glance, Mugen was gone.


End file.
